Lemons
by The Faerie of Darkness
Summary: Everyone knows what to do when life gives you lemons. But what about when life forgets to give you sugar?Grape juice isn't an option... ONESHOT


**Hi. I felt the need to write a one-shot involving lemons. Not sure why. Just felt like it. So, here's the end result. A strange little lemon fic. Enjoy.**

**My friends have blood that's red**

**But all my blood is blue**

**I really do own nothing**

**So you meanies can't sue**

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Danny Fenton stared, slightly confused, at the lemon in his hand. His sister had just shoved it into his hand as she ran out of the door. It was a "treatment option", whatever that was supposed to be. To him, it looked like any other lemon. 

Danny walked inside, still holding the lemon and wondering vaguely why the house smelled so… clean. His question was answered when he spotted a giant bag of lemons on the kitchen table. Danny groaned. Jazz must have gone lemon crazy again. It happened every so often; Jazz would have a panic attack and buy a huge bag of lemons. Something about the smell and weight always managed to calm her down, but then there were still the lemons. Danny foresaw much lemonade in his immediate future.

Sitting down at the table, Danny stared at the shiny yellow of the lemons. Each one was emitting a sharp smell reminiscent of summers long ago.

"_Danny, lemonade time!" his mother had called. "Your friends are welcome to have some too!" Danny had run inside, closely followed by Sam and Tucker. A glass of sugary-tart lemonade was waiting for each of them. The twinkling glasses were quickly emptied and the joyful trio returned to their play._

Danny suddenly wanted a glass of lemonade. With a glance at the bag, he quickly began looking for the old glass pitcher, perfect for lemonade. Grabbing a couple of lemons, he sliced them in half, and then put them into the Fenton Juicer. Originally created to drain the power from ghosts, Danny only liked using his father's invention on unsuspecting citrus fruits. Happy with the juice that collected, Danny filled the pitcher three-fourths of the way full with water, then added the lemon juice. Happy with his work, Danny opened the ghost-shaped sugar jar to discover that it was empty.

Staring at the empty jar, Danny was disappointed. Lemonade without sugar was just lemony water, which no one wanted. His plan had fallen flat. But then, something hit him.

"Ow!" Danny said, rubbing his head where the Booo-Merang had hit him. "I really need to lock that thing in a box. Or burn it." As if it understood what he was saying, the Booo-Merang circled around for a second hit. This time, however, Danny caught it. "Stupid toy." he muttered, throwing it into a nearby drawer. The drawer shook, knocking the phone off of the hook. It hummed until Danny put it back on the hook.

Coming up with another brilliant plan - his personal specialty - Danny grabbed a measuring cup and walked out of the door. He headed towards Sam's house. Sam would definitely have sugar. Forget the part about randomly showing up with a glass measuring cup. Yeah, great plan…

A few minutes later, Danny found himself on Sam's doorstep. He ran the doorbell and Mrs. Manson opened the door.

"Hello, and welcome to the Manson household!" she sang cheerily. "How may I- oh, it's you." Her cheery tone dropped as she noticed it was Danny. "Samantha isn't here, what do you want?"

"I told you never to call me that!" Sam said indignantly, coming down the stairs. "Who's at the door?" She looked up. "Oh hi Danny." Mrs. Manson looked faintly ill.

"Uhm, I was kinda wondering if I could borrow a cup of sugar." Danny said sheepishly. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Well, Jazz bought a bunch of lemons and then she randomly ran out of the house so I wanted to make lemonade and we kinda were outta sugar but I didn't notice so can I use some of yours?" He said all of this very fast and without breathing. Amazingly, Sam understood every word.

"Sure." she said, slightly confused. "Come on inside." Mrs. Manson, still looking queasy, moved aside as Danny came through the doorway. Sam brought him into the kitchen. "So you came all the way over here for a cup of sugar?" she asked. Danny grinned and nodded sheepishly. "O-kay." She handed him the measuring glass, filled to the one cup line.

"Thanks." Danny said, holding the measuring cup. It was the bleached-white tiny grained kind of sugar, he noticed, perfect for dissolving in a lemony solution. "You wanna help make make some?" Danny asked, the thought randomly popping into is head.

"Sure." Sam replied, nonchalant. "It sounds... juvenile. In a good way." she added quickly, just in case Danny had taken it the wrong way. "Like little kids in the summer."

"That's exactly what I was thinking." Danny said. Neither of them found this comment odd.

"Let's go then." Sam said. She was already at the door, pulling it open. Still carefully holding the cup of sugar, Danny gently jogged to the door. As they walked down the street, Danny and Sam talked about simple things; test, preps, jocks, normal high school stuff. Danny wondered when the last time he had done something as calm and simple as making lemonade was.

Back at his house, Danny slowly added the cup of sugar as Sam stirred. The tiny white grains dissolved into nothingness quickly, water and lemon being too much for the tiny crystalline structures.

"And now, we drink!" Danny said in a deep, dramatic voice. Sam laughed as her took two glasses from the cabinent and waltzed around the kitchen with them. "One for you, Madame." Danny said in a snooty French accent. "Only the best."

"Yeah, you better give me some." Sam said, a smile still playing across her lips. Danny poured her a glass and Sam grabbed it, pinky extended. She took a sip.

"A fine rich taste." she said, smiling. "Very robust." Danny could barely contain his laughter as Sam held the glass up, looking very posh despite her twinkling eyes. "It would go very nice with a peanut butter sandwich." With that, they simultaniously burst out laughing, childish happiness echoing across the kitchen with only the lemons to see and tell.

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**Alright, now please tell me what you though of this little thing. I was tempted to scrap it, but I figured it deserved a fighting chance. Lemon power!**

** - The Faerie of the Night**


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